


Bones

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Kings of Nowhere [65]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-09 04:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20502458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: There’s not a lot to do between missions. Hell, there’s not a lot to doonmissions sometimes with the whole hurry up and wait bullshit that happens.So you know, you find ways to entertain yourself. Pick a random topic and go off on it just to keep from being bored out of your mind while you wait for something to happen.





	Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Anon who asked for agency Jeremavinwood with Battle Buddies vs Play Pals???

There’s not a lot to do between missions. Hell, there’s not a lot to do _on_ missions sometimes with the whole hurry up and wait bullshit that happens.

So you know, you find ways to entertain yourself. Pick a random topic and go off on it just to keep from being bored out of your mind while you wait for something to happen.

“So wait,” Jeremy says, bundle of wires tucked into the corner of his mouth. “You’re telling me you two idiots decided to call yourselves the Play Pals because you couldn’t figure out what the designation Command gave you meant?”

Well when you put it like that, it does sound stupid. (Also, team designations are randomly generated by some fancy computer algorithm or something, Michael tuned out when Ryan tried to explain it to him once, because who the hell cares?)

To be fair to Gavin and Michael, however, most of the teams in the agency get two or three letter designations. They’re the only ones he’s heard of to get a four letter designation. 

Jeremy must have finally realized that too because he just had to go and ask about it, didn’t he. Got Michael going on the subject while he tinkers and fiddles and swears under his breath as he works.

“Gavin’s idea,” Michael says, because the little idiot’s not there to refute the claim. “Who the hell else would come up with something so dumb?”

Not his fault he’s got Gavin as a partner and not some melodramatic idiot like Ryan with a penchant for the really destructive kind of chaos. The kind of team designation that lends itself to them being called Battle Buddies and having it stick until no one can remember a time when they weren’t called that. (Funny as all hell when Command slips up and puts it in the official reports that go to the bigwigs in DC, though.)

Jeremy laughs and almost inhales the wires he’s fucking around with. Gives Michael this _look_ when Michael reaches over to hit him on the back to keep him from choking and all that.

“Thanks, pal,” he says, in that way he does sometimes. 

Sarcastic as fuck and this touch of amusement to it and then the alarms go off, which means their dumbass partners have finally arrived to rescue them from their terrible fate as prisoners. (Shit happens.)

Michael glances around at the unconscious bodies of the guards who were meant to be watching them. 

Some might lean a little more towards dead, but since they’re the ones who started it Michael doesn’t feel too bad about things.

There’s at least three levels of secret bad guy base above them, and Michael can still hear the explosions clear as day.

Michael and Gavin make a hell of a team, and so do Jeremy and Ryan. Do a little mix’n’match like this mission has forced them into and the results are maybe not the desired sort. (To hear Command talk anyway.)

“You got the door, or are we going to wait for those morons to save the day?”

Their escape may have met with a few complications, or maybe just another round of bad luck. They made it out of the zip ties and locked room these assholes had them hidden away in, sure, but then they had the fortune (misfortune?) of getting locked in this shitty little room. (Because fuck them, that’s why.)

Michael gets another _look_ because Jeremy’s been trying to hot-wire the door’s locks or whatever the hell he’s been doing for the last half hour with no success. (Michael may or may not have been heckling/nitpicking him the whole time, but that ties in with the finding ways to entertain himself.)

Another explosion goes off above them, big enough Michael can feel it, and Jeremy looks down at the mechanism he’s been fiddling with. Takes the wires out of his mouth and gives Michael this wry little smile.

“Well,” he says, and dusts his hands off before reaching for the hand Michael's holding out to him to help him up. “Since they’re here anyway and all.”

Right, right.

Hate to pop their balloon or whatever bullshit excuse Jeremy has.

Another explosion rocks the compound and Michael 

========

Michael loves to give Gavin shit for pretty much everything he does? But the truth is that Gavin is good at what he does. (And he does a lot.)

Still, there’s no denying he’s also a colossal moron.

“Gavin,” Michael says, because how the fuck, and also _why_ the fuck. “What did you do?”

Ryan is running around HQ with a gooddamned crossbow and nowhere is safe.

Gavin is a goddamned horrible little goblin who loves enabling Ryan and his lunacy and Michael and Jeremy were gone for maybe – maybe – twenty minutes tops for a coffee run.

And now look at the place.

Crossbow bolts embedded in the walls and people hunkered down waiting for someone to either talk Ryan down from playing with his new toy or just tranq his ass. (Oh, Ryan’s too good to be careless with the damn crossbow, but that doesn’t make him any less of a menace with it.)

Gavin’s rolling around on the floor wheezing and squeaking and no damn help at all because he thinks it’s hilarious.

Meanwhile Jeremy’s tracking Ryan down and checking in every few minutes sounding like he’s trying not to choke on his own laughter. (With Geoff in DC for budget meetings Michael’s the only sane man left.)

“You’re explaining this to Geoff when he gets back,” Michael mutters, and heads out to grab a tranquilizer gun to put an end to Ryan’s little rampage before it really gets out of hand.

========

The kind of missions Michael and Gavin get sent on mostly deal with stealth. In and out before their target knows what’s happening because Gavin is fucking spectacular when it comes to stealth and Michael’s not too bad himself. (He’s always been a quick study, and keeping up with Gavin is not something just anyone can do.)

Jeremy and Ryan get the missions where subtlety isn’t a key factor. Get sent in with a case of explosives and other shinies and walk out when everything’s on fire. (That wasn’t always the case, but Geoff and Jack just kind of gave up after a while, and hey, it works.)

Every once in a while they get sent on missions together, and that's just - 

“Oh, dear,” Gavin says, leaning back from his laptop. “That’s not ideal.”

Michael leans over his shoulder and tries to make sense of the million and one windows Gavin has open.

Security cam feeds he’s plugged into thanks to the Battle Buddies and satellite feeds. Other bullshit Michael recognizes but doesn’t give a damn about because things just went to shit.

Again.

“Christ,” he mutters, wondering if the agency throwing them together on missions is just an experiment to see how quickly things will turn to shit when combining their bad luck or if they’re just cursed like that. “They didn’t even make it inside this time.”

Gavin smothers a laugh, turns it into a cough as he toggles between camera feeds to keep track of Jeremy and Ryan being marched through the compound to wherever the guards are taking them.

“Should have taken Jack up on that wager of his, Michael,” he says, because he’s an asshole and Michael forgot, okay, he forgot.

Too busy checking over their gear to pop over to Jack’s office to join in on the betting pool and then Ryan threw a fit because he didn’t get the flamethrower he wanted. There was a lot going on, okay. Fucking sue him.

“Fuck off,” Michael says, and glances at the weapons crate stuffed full of the goodies the Battle Buddies love to lug around with them. “And dibs on Ryan’s mini-gun.”

========

So the thing is, the four of them get along a little too well for Command’s peace of mind.

Don’t give a shit about so-called friendly rivalries or trying to one-up each other in the hopes of currying favor with Geoff or Command.

No point to it when none of them give a shit about those things. (Geoff’s not the kind of guy who’d appreciate any of it no matter what he says, and Command’s long been wise to them.)

Gavin and Ryan are the worst because they’re stupid smart and have that little workshop down in one of storage subbasement no one’s supposed to know about. Make use out of the downtime they get between missions to “improve on” whatever gadgets tech comes up with for them and other fun experiments of theirs.

Jeremy joins in every so often when he gets a hankerin’, as Ryan likes to call it. Stars in his eyes and visions of explosions in his head or whatever the hell, and Michael?

“Jesus Christ,” he says, and plucks the grenade out of Gavin’s hand before the idiot blows them all sky high. “_No_.”

Gavin gives him a look, all sad-eyed puppy in the rain because Michael is a terrible bully. Behind him Ryan is just kind of pathetic, because somehow he set himself on fire – again – and thankfully Jeremy was there with a fire extinguisher, because what the hell.

“Michael,” Gavin starts, earnest as hell like the three of them aren’t the most ridiculous idiots Michael’s ever met. “You’ll love it, Michael. Ryan had the best idea!”

And, see.

Michael knows it’s going to be the worst damn idea in the world if Ryan came up with it. Dumbass always thinks he knows what’s what only to have things (sometimes literally) blow up in his face.

This time it’s something about putting the explosive power of a grenade in a pen – a _pen_ \- like something out of a dumb spy movie to use on missions.

“Just think of it, Michael!” Gavin says, clearly infected with Ryan’s dumb. “It would be amazing!”

It would be a disaster is what it would be, but then again that sounds prefect for them.

========

There are fraternization rules and regulations in the handbook they were given when they signed on. Outdated bullshit no one bothers to enforce because it would mean cracking down hard on half the agency at this point.

The only time anyone brings it up to Geoff is when it’s a suit down from DC to see how the funding they receive is being spent. Little meet and greets with the operatives and other assorted assholes working here and find them lacking in some way. (None of them are ever what people expect them to be. Too human to begin with, all these hopes and dreams and lives outside the agency. Emotions, feelings, all that shit.)

_“Just don’t – don’t let it fuck things up,”_ Geoff told them when he found out. Tired and worn down and trying to act like he didn’t know because the suits wouldn’t get it, understand. _“Be careful.”_

It’s a lot to ask of assholes like them, but they do their best to make it work. Have their moments where things get real shitty real fast thanks to the stress of their jobs and the way life has of being a shitshow. 

Rough patches and all that, but they’re all a little too invested in the life they’ve built for themselves to give up so easily and he knows it baffles the hell of the people who know. Look at them and try to figure out how the hell assholes like them make sense, when they don’t even know themselves. 

(Only bit of good luck to stick for the four of them, and goddamn if they’re not going to hang on to it with everything they have.)


End file.
